


Battle of the Bars

by BitterTongue



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-17 02:13:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16965786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BitterTongue/pseuds/BitterTongue
Summary: When you finally achieved your dream of opening a bar on Stark Street you had no idea you’d have competition or that the owner of the bar across the street would be so cute. (Business Owner Bucky AU)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ported over from my tumblr Cordytriestowrite

“Holy shit this place is awesome!” Your best friend Wanda exclaimed, her voice echoing through the empty space. You nodded in agreement with a satisfied smile. You folded your arms as you watched Wanda maneuver around the tables, exploring every inch of your new place of business.  
It had been hard work snagging a piece of real estate on the most popular party street in the city, but somehow you managed to be in the right place at the right time with just enough money in your savings account. So now you were broke, happy, and ready to open tomorrow. That is if Wanda was willing to help. You watched her make her way behind the bar, her delicate hands trailing along the polished wood.  
“You look good behind the bar, Maximoff.” You smirked when Wanda rolled her eyes.  
“I haven’t been behind a bar since college and I swore I would never work one again once I graduated.” She scoffed.  
You approached the bar and leaned against it, your smirk still firmly affixed. “But you didnt graduate did you Wanda?”  
She bit her lip, trying to keep her smile from showing itself to you, but you knew you had caught her in a loophole to her own promise since she never finished her last semester. Her eyes fell closed as she let her head fall back with a groan.  
“When do I start?” She asked with a smack of her small hands on the polished bar.  
“I want to open tomorrow. A Friday night will bring good traffic.” You explained, walking along the bar to join Wanda behind it. She nodded in agreement and accepted your grateful hug.  
“Pietro could help too. My brother would do anything for you.” Wanda offered. You made a noncommittal noise in your throat. Pietro was a harmless flirt and she knew that, but it didn’t stop her from teasing you for occasionally indulging in his flirtatious compliments.  
“I’ll take all the help I can get.” You concluded, looking around the room. Imagining all the people who would fill the space tomorrow, talking and laughing and enjoying your hard work.  
-  
Music blasted through the room sounding loud in the mostly empty bar. You felt helpless as you watched droves of small and large groups pass right by your open door.  
“Why aren’t they coming in?” You asked no one in particular, a slight whine in your tone.  
“It’s still early.” Wanda said checking her watch.  
“Its eight o'clock,” Pietro countered, leaning against the bar gnawing on a toothpick, “people want to drink, just not here.”  
“Not helping.” Wanda shot at her brother through clenched teeth, Pietro straightened and strode over to you, placing his hands on your shoulders.  
“Want me to go out there, huh? Get some of the ladies in here with my charm and good looks” He mumbled into your ear. You shook your head and pulled away from his touch. You leaned in the open doorway, not bothering now to hide how you watched the people pass your bar with not even a second glance.  
What were you missing? Your bar was modern, clean, had good music, and a good looking staff. Why did no one want to come in and have a drink?  
“You open?” A voice rang out over the chatter on the street.  
When you had pictured your bar patrons as you fell asleep last night you imagined cute instagram-worthy guys and gals who couldn’t wait to tag your bar in their photos that always get a thousand likes. When you lay in bed at night feeling lonely you imagined this kind of man doing anything he wanted with you until your spent body fell into dreamland. He was, in a word, hot. His broad shoulders were covered by a worn leather jacket, his strong thighs clad in dark wash jeans, his hair was long and his strong jaw stubbled with a five o'clock shadow. He was gorgeous and dark and obviously waiting for an answer.  
You cleared your throat and straighted up, “Yes we are. Come on in.” You moved out of the doorway so he could move past you.  
“Could’ve fooled me.” He smirked as his shoulder brushed yours. You had almost missed his jab as you caught a whiff of worn leather and gasoline, a surprisingly comforting smell. You followed him in with a slight frown.  
Wanda took care of him quickly, flashing her lovely smile and leaning forward on the bar as she took his order. You could tell she was checking him out just as you had. You felt no ounce of jealousy at her appreciating gaze, knowing Wanda was more in to preppy nerds than biker boys. He must have ordered a drink because Wanda was now turned around, staring at the wall of liquor holding an empty glass.  
You didn’t want to seem like a creep but you couldn’t keep your eyes off your only patron as he sipped the whiskey Wanda poured for him. Your eyes only left him when his eyes met yours, so stunningly blue and filled with mirth they were hard to look at for more than a moment.  
“Join me for a drink, doll?” He lifted his glass in your direction and you found yourself feeling suddenly coy at the pet name. Still, you put up a confident front, allowing your hips to sway with swagger as you strode over to join him.  
He offered you his hand and his name; you did the same cordially. Wanda placed an amaretto sour in front of you with a subtle wink. It was your favorite drink when you were in a flirty mood and as your best friend she knew that, the tramp. You turned, intending to ask him how he was enjoying his drink.  
“Wanna know why no one is coming in to your bar?” James interrupted as he brought the whiskey to his lips and drained the glass and declining another drink when Wanda came along with the bottle.  
You felt your mood shift from friendly flirtation to full on defensive stubbornness. You had a feeling his criticism would not be constructive. “If you are so inclined to tell me without prompting.”  
He smirked and turned fully to face you, his knees hitting the side of your thigh as you kept your body and stare straight ahead, prepared to secure yourself emotionally.  
“No sign, no flyers, no hype men or plants to make your place seem like a happening spot, you don’t have any drink specials and if I were to guess you dont even have a target audience. You’ll be out of business in a month if you don’t get your head out of your ass.”  
“Fuck you.” You seethed before you could admit to yourself that he was right. You hadn’t even though to do any of those things before he mentioned them, too worried about meeting an imaginary deadline to really think about the small details that would make your business successful.  
“Just trying to help, doll face.” James pulled his wallet from his back pocket and threw down a generous stack of bills next to his empty glass.  
“If you want to see a real bar come to Bucky’s,” he whispered into your ear as he stood up to leave, his body leaning over yours and encompassing you in the smell of whiskey and leather, a smell you were forcing yourself to detest. “Its where all your potential customers are headed anyway.”  
You pulled your head back and glared at him, making sure he saw the hard line of your lips when he glanced down to them briefly.  
“Get out.”  
He let out a small chuckle and pushed himself away from you.  
“Not a problem, doll.”  
You watched him stroll leisurely out the door and kept your eyes trained on his retreating form until losing him on the crowded street just outside. You turned away at the sound of a low whistle behind you.  
“That was kind of hot. All that tension.” Pietro said lowly, earning a smack on the arm from his sister.  
“That was insulting.” She countered angrily, “I can’t believe he said that. Who does he think he is?”  
You turned back to the entrance, you eyes scanning the street once more expecting to see James’ smirking face in each passerby. Your eyes lifted a little higher than the crowd, seeing a neon red sign across the road, the word Bucky’s lighting up the crowded street in a red glow.  
"I don't know," your eyebrows furrowed in determination, "but I'm sure as hell never going to Bucky's to find out."


	2. Chapter 2

Your first weekend as a business owner went a lot smoother after the first night. You reluctantly took James’ advice. You and Wanda worked on a signature drink and menu theme while Pietro printed flyers and pulled some strings to get a crowd through the doors. You didn’t turn a profit but Wanda and Pietro made enough money in tips to agree to work the weekends for you until you could afford a real staff.  
So that first Monday it was just you. The crowd was definitely small, only a fraction of what it had been all weekend so the place was manageable. You looked up from the register as another patron slipped through the door and you regarded her with interest.  
She walked with purpose and confidence, swinging her hips in a natural motion that caught the eye of a few customers facing her direction. She placed herself gracefully onto the stool closest to you and quirked her eyebrow as she threw you a small smirk.  
You smiled and welcomed her, placing a napkin down along with a small paper menu with the drinks you and Wanda worked to create and name. The woman didn’t look down at the menu and instead requested a vodka tonic.  
You fixed her drink quickly, it was an easy request. When you turned around to pass her the drink you caught her tucking her phone away into the pocket of her jacket.  
“Thank you.” She said, her voice playful. If there was some sort of joke she was amused by you were not in on it. A hand raised further down the bar and you quickly moved down and away from the redhead.  
An hour passed, then another, and the redheaded woman remained in her chair, quietly nursing the same vodka tonic. Every time you rang up something on the register you could feel her eyes dissecting you in a way that made you squirm. She was quiet and intense and you wished someone else was working with you tonight who could take over so you could feel like you have some privacy again. As the bar petered out and customer count dwindled to single digits you set her check down for her one drink.  
“No rush.” You said, trying to sound polite when all you wanted to do was tell her to leave.  
The next time you made your way to the register to cash out a customer the woman was gone. Her vodka tonic was still more than half full but her check was paid and she was gone and you felt comfortable in your own bar again.  
-  
“You got it bad Barnes.” Natasha said with a smirk as she passed him her phone.  
“Just want to check out the competition.” Bucky muttered, hiding the redness of his cheeks by looking intently at the images on Nat’s phone. He scrolled through the few pictures his friend took before sending them to his phone.  
“Check her out yourself. Ask her out while you’re at it. You need to get out of this place for once.”  
Bucky handed back the phone and rolled his eyes. Maybe sending Natasha to scope out your bar had been the wrong choice, but the idea of sending Sam, who was all to ready to flirt, or Steve, who would have admitted to spying, was laughable. Natasha was the best for the job and the teasing Bucky got for his request was an unfortunate side effect.  
“Thanks Nat. Grab a drink or get the fuck out.” Natasha laughed and with a wink slinked to into the back room, probably looking for Steve.  
Bucky turned at the deep chuckle of his best bartender.  
“What’s so funny, Sam?” Bucky asked in tired annoyance, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation.  
“Red’s right. You’ve been obsessed with the owner of the bar across the street since it opened. You got it bad, man.”  
Bucky plucked a glass from the low shelf behind the bar and brought it close to his face, staring intensely as the overhead lights illuminated the unmarked surface. He frowned and tossed the glass to Sam who caught it easily.  
“Glasses are dirty, run ‘em again.”  
Sam looked at him incredulously. The glass, just like all the others, was pristine from its run through Bucky’s state of the art dishwasher.  
“Come on, man. You know you’re just trying to avoid the conversation.”  
“Fine,” Bucky conceded, snatching the glass from Sam’s hand and tossing it back and forth between his own palms, he tended to fidget when he was nervous, “I’ll go over there and talk to her.”  
“Tonight.” Same added, crossing his arms and squaring up, waiting for Bucky to challenge him.  
“Tonight?”  
“Tonight,” Sam confirmed, placing a hand on Bucky’s shoulder and turning him and walking toward the door, “Right now, buddy. Go.”  
With a final push Bucky stumbled onto the deserted street in the late hours of Monday evening. He turned back to the entrance of his own bar to find Sam blocking the doorway. With a raised brow Sam gestured across the street. Bucky turned back around and swallowed heavily, seeing you illuminated behind the large windows of your bar, completely unaware of what was happening outside. He took a deep breath and forced his body to relax, forced himself to look cool and composed and with a heavy exhale he made his way across the street.


	3. Chapter 3

Your door opened so silently you didn’t hear it over the music, even though you had dimmed the volume after your last patron left a few minutes prior. You continued to count your drawer, blissfully unaware of the other figure in the room until he made his presence known with a short clearing of his throat. Your head shot up in surprise, heartbeat accelerating at the small fright, but when your eyes landed on James your shock wore into a general annoyance.  
“We’re closed.” You said abruptly, going back to your task of counting the few coins spaced about your till.  
“You should lock the door then.” He countered easily, a cocky grin on his chiseled face. You scoffed but internally admonished yourself for not locking the door before starting your other closing tasks.  
“I’ll lock it behind you as you leave,” he didn’t budge from his place just inside the door, “now.” You finished, hoping he would take the obvious hint he was not welcome.  
“How about I lock the door,” he offered in a slow voice following up his words with the action. The click of your lock made your jaw tense in displeasure. “And I’ll help you close up.”  
“Why would you do that?” You eyed him skeptically as he left the now secure door space and approached the counter you stood behind.  
“Because closing by yourself can be hard. And because I was a jerk before.” He admitted the last part reluctantly, scratching the back of his head and allowing a shameful grimace to marr his good looks.  
Your shoulders relaxed away from your ears, suddenly noticing how weary you were after over six hours on your feet working the whole bar by yourself. You really could use the help, especially if it was free.  
You gave a short nod before saying, “You can start by mopping the floor.”  
James’ wiggled his eyebrows and stood up straighter, “I like a woman that gives orders.”  
The two of you worked in silence the first ten minutes of your cleaning. Bucky made fast but efficient work with the mop and bucket and maneuvered it back into the supply closet after dumping the dirty water out back. Once he was done he joined you behind the bar to reseal bottles and dispose of the unused garnishes. In the close proximity the conversation flowed easily, making the work less boring and tedious.  
“So how did you come to own this place,” James asked as he recapped a bottle of cheap vodka, “Stark street is a tough spot.”  
You shrugged, unable to help the small smile forming from your sense of pride, “Mostly luck. I had been saving for years for something to call my own and just so happened to see the sign on the door. It all came together pretty easy after that. How did you come to work at Bucky’s.”  
James let out a loud snort, “Work at Bucky’s? I own Bucky’s. Hell doll, I am Bucky!” His Cheshire grin widened at your slack jaw.  
“You’re Bucky? You said your name was James!” You said accusingly, abandoning your task to face him with your hands on your hips.  
“James is my first name. Bucky’s been my nickname since I was a kid. I don’t know why I told you my first name, I hate it.” His cheeks acquired a rosey tint you were sure was not caused by the cool, overhead lights.  
“Anything else you want to confess?” You egged on, taking satisfaction from the teasing you could elicit of the man who had been nothing but cool in your presence. Bucky looked up at you with a serious face, chilling the air in the room by a few degrees.  
“I’m an assassin, kidnapped by the Russians and brainwashed into a sleeper agent.”  
You gulped audibly, Bucky’s somber expression holding just long enough to make the scenario seem like a true possibility. You laughed along with him, appreciating the unforeseen sense of humor he possessed. The mood calmed back down to a comfortable level and you two finished packing up the bar, circling back to the original question, with a slight modification.  
“So how did you come to own Bucky’s?”  
Bucky turned toward you, his hip resting against the bar, you mirrored his stance biting your lip as your eyes traveled up and down his long form.  
“It was a gift.”  
“From who?”  
“Howard Stark.” You waited impatiently for more information as to how Bucky had managed to attain such a valuable gift from the senior Stark but his words were held captive by the rows of white, straight teeth. You landed a playful smack to Bucky’s shoulder when his grin remained fixed beyond what you could handle. He laughed and rolled his eyes before continuing the story he so obviously wanted go share.  
“My best friend Steve got really sick as a kid. He was in and out of the hospital all throughout school. We met Tony Stark during one of Steve’s long stays, I think he broke his leg or something, but we all became friends. The Starks kind of took us in after that, even paid Steve’s hospital bills for his mom and got him the right specialists to get better.”  
“That’s really nice.” You muttered, so lost in the story you didn't even realize you had added your own commentary until it had tumbled out and paused Bucky’s train of thought. He nodded in agreement.  
“Mr Stark gave me the bar when I turned 21. He said I had a head for business. He died before I really got it off the ground, but he taught me a lot.”  
You could tell Howard Stark’s passing was still rough on Bucky, his eyes downcast and voice heavy with sorrow. You forced your way through the heavy atmosphere your conversation had floated into by lifting your box of now capped booze.  
“Help me bring these to the back?”  
Two people made short work of storing the boxes of merchandise in the small back room. You both rested next to your stacked boxes, breath easing it’s way back to normal after the short exercise.  
“Thank you for the help.” You said in genuine thanks, glancing at the clock next to the back door and noting the little time it had taken in comparison to completing everything on your own.  
“Couldn’t let a beautiful girl like you do all this work herself.”  
“I’m not joking around I’m really trying to say thank you.” You groaned, the feelings of gratitude cheapened by his joking reply.  
“And I’m really trying to say you’re beautiful and I’m happy to help.” He whispered back. When did he get so close to you in the now crowded back room? You looked up slightly to meet his eyes, only for find them transfixed on your lips, his own bottom lip captured by his top teeth.  
Suddenly emboldened by his proximity, drunk on the smell of leather, oil, and whiskey and the heavy exhalations mingling between you making you lightheaded and giddy you smirked.  
“You gonna kiss me or what?”  
It took Bucky no convincing to lean into your awaiting lips, his large hands reaching up to cup your jaw, fingers brushing the raised hair on the back of your neck. His lips melded to yours like molten iron to a cast as you both reacted to the movement separating and joining the sensitive skin of your mouths, forging a deeper exploration as you opened wider to match the space he made with his own lips. Your hands crawled their way from your sides to the lapels of his leather jacket, tugging when it felt like the kiss could come to a natural end you weren’t ready for. He complied with every tug and your lips and tongues continued their leisurely journey to an undecided destination.  
Bucky’s phone was the only thing that broke through the fog in your mind as you continued to lose yourself in the warm hands on your face and the soft lips pressed against your own. You pulled away long enough to find your voice, the second half of your statement spoken against his returning lips.  
“Bucky your phone.”  
“Let it ring.” He practically growled, pushing his tongue between your lips, brushing it along yours as his hold on one side of your face relented to slide down your body and rest on your lower back. You hummed in agreement, losing yourself again to the flood of hormones. The phone went silent.  
When Bucky’s phone rang for the second time he tore away from your kiss with an apologetic, yet annoyed look. You caught your breath as he removed the device from his jacket. All breath you had been trying to regain was pulled from your lungs at the illuminated screen.  
Staring up at Bucky and well within your vision was the redhead from before. The woman who had made you feel uneasy for hours in your own establishment was smiling, head thrown over her shoulder in a playful way with a twinkle in her eye that screamed of coy sex appeal. It’s like you stepped under a cold shower.  
“You have a girlfriend.” You said just loud enough to be heard over the ringtone.  
“What?” Bucky’s head shot up in confusion. “No, this is Natasha, my employee.”  
“Why was your employee in my bar earlier?” You asked, suspicion causing your tone to waiver as the puzzle pieces fell together in your head. Bringing you to one conclusion.  
“You were spying on me.” You hissed, holding up your hand to hold off Bucky’s retort. His phone ceased its ringing and the redhead’s beautiful face faded to black.  
“I just sent her to check in on you.” Bucky corrected despite your raised palm. He stepped forward and you stepped back, keeping your physical distance as a barrier until your mental and emotional facilities could defend themselves.  
“Get out. I mean it. Go.” You said firmly, chin threatening to quiver but holding steadfast in his prescience. Bucky tried a few more times to explain but you didn't allow him more than a few words each time.  
“I’m really sorry.” He tried one last time as he relented to your requests and stood by the front door. You unlocked it silently and held it open for him. With a strong sigh and a hand running through his hair he turned and left. You did not hesitate to lock the door behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

"We're not selling enough of the Winter Soldier this season. Push that drink as much as possible. Mention its seasonal-"  
Natasha's words faded in and out of Bucky's ears, coincidentally whenever you came out from the back room. He had chosen his seat in the huddle specifically because it gave him a clear view into your bar. You were working alone tonight, as you did every Wednesday night. He knew this because their weekly huddles fell on Wednesday. Everything fell together perfectly and discreetly, or so Bucky thought. His hearing flickered back to life as he caught the end of Natasha's update.  
"- so yeah from now on all drinks are free and this is a topless bar. Any questions?"  
Steve and Sam, sitting on either side of Bucky, agreed wholeheartedly to Natasha's announcement, offering more suggestions.  
"Maybe we should just be a nudist bar?" Steve said thoughtfully  
"Yeah then we can don't have to worry about uniforms." Sam agreed. Steve pointed to Sam and nodded in agreement and Bucky's brain slowly processed the words spoken by his employees. His eyes ran over the small circle of workers all nodding and unphased. He was totally confused.  
"Wait what?" He said to no one in particular, though his gaze did meet Natasha's as he sat up straighter in his chair.  
"We got him back gentlemen." Natasha said with a smirk, her mouth stretching wider as the circle clapped and whooped as if there was something to celebrate. Sam slapped a large hand to Bucky's shoulder as he tilted his face down to hide his embarrassment.   
The small group took a few minutes to calm down from their teasing before Natasha could wrap up and send them off to begin opening the bar. Bucky glanced back out the window and into the building beyond before he could stop himself.   
"Who the hell is that?" He exclaimed in disgust, his finger pointing to the tall blonde man across the street on the other side of the still locked door.   
"New employee?" Natasha theorized casually, her arms crossed over her chest as she joined Bucky in his observation of your bar.   
His light eyes stalked the unfamiliar man with scrutiny. He was tall and broad and from a distance not looking to be as tall and broad as Bucky. Still, Bucky straightened up and set his shoulders back, keeping his chin high.   
"You look like you're ready to kill him, whoever he is." Nat joked. She nudged his upper arm with her shoulder before turning away.   
-  
You let Thor in through the back room with a wide and welcoming smile which he returned. You tried to remain calm as you locked the door behind him, but inside you were practically vibrating with excitement. Outside of weekends with Wanda and Pietro you had been running the bar all alone for the last month. You were exhausted, but like a recent mother was exhausted. It was happy exhaustion because you had created something and spent all your time keeping it alive and happy. This bar was your baby, but it was slowly driving you insane. It was also getting a bit too busy to handle on your own during the week.  
"Let me just give you a quick tour and we can open up."  
Thor nodded and followed you around the bar, nodding as you pointed out innocuous things like where the extra rags were kept and how to open the register when it sticks. You realized you were out of breath and paused to catch it.  
"Very nice." Thor commented in your silence. He was genuinely nice and polite, something you had caught onto during his interview. You were grateful for his soft eyes and gentle smile. In any other combination his words would have come off as fake. You knew he would do well with customers and let yourself swim in your little pool of pride for finding him.  
"So is it just us tonight?" He asks, rubbing his hands together and moving past you to take his place behind the bar. You nod and move to the door, unlocking it and turning on the lighted open sign in the window.   
"There are three of us and you make four. Wanda and Pietro only work on weekends."  
"What are they like?" Thor asked. You considered it for a while, not sure if he meant it on a personal level or just as employees. You watched him toss a shot glass into the air and catch it with his other hand behind his back. He completed the motion by grabbing a bottle of vodka in his free hand and tipping it over the awaiting shot glass. He then downed the shot easily, without a grimace or even twitch of his eyebrow.  
"Well Wanda is my best friend. She's been bartending for years and is very knowledgeable in the craft."  
Thor nodded and repeated his toss of a shot glass and the pour of the vodka. He didn't even look up at you, but you did not feel that he was disinterested or bored so you continued.  
"Pietro is quicker than a gunslinger behind the bar. I've seen him made twenty drinks in under a minute and maintain quality. He's an asset on the weekends when it gets really busy."  
"And what about the bloke glaring daggers at me across the way? Ex boyfriend?" He asked with a smirk as he pushed the shot toward you.  
You managed to catch sight of Bucky, arms crossed, chest wide, and chin up before the lights were dimmed for the evening crowd. You reached for the awaiting shot and downed it with a grimace.   
"Something like that." You coughed out as the alcohol burned your throat. Thor bellowed a hearty laugh, his eyes crinkling in the corners.  
-  
It had to be a record night. You didn't track the traffic in and out of your bar, especially when you're too busy making drinks and bussing tables, but if you had you knew this night would hold the record of busiest Wednesday night ever.  
You watched from across the room as Thor practically danced from one end of the bar to the next. He was all smiles and quick hands, expertly handling both drink and drinker. Your eyes grazed the backs of the bar patrons; leaning forward severely to keep Thor in their sights. You shook yourself out of your stupor and gathered the empty glasses from a recently vacated table. You performed a precarious balancing act of beer mugs and martini glasses all the way up to the short side of the bar. Thor was there to meet you, swinging a rag over his shoulder like an actor playing a bartender in a commercial. It fell so casually yet so perfectly on his bulging trap muscle. You could have sworn you heard an audible, heady sigh escape the lips of every customer within eyesight.   
"Good night I reckon." He said heartily, his face melting into a smile that made his eyes shine below long lashes.   
"Good night indeed." You agreed, unable to keep a smile from your lips. Between the full house, lightened workload, and gorgeous new bartender it was impossible to bring your mouth into a frown. Nothing could bring you down or so you thought.  
Even from across the crowded bar you could see him, clad in a light sweater with his brown hair loose. You saw him before he saw you, so you watched openly as his eyes scanned the area. He was looking for something, or someone. You had a feeling who he was looking for and your gut told you to run, hide in the back room until he gave up his hunt. You swallowed heavily and gripped the wood grain bar top.   
Thor looked down at your grip with interest, his eyebrows raising. He turned to look over his shoulder, trying to follow your eye line. They made eye contact and Bucky's eyes hardened, his jaw clenching. Thor chuckled and leaned back against the liquor shelf, revealing you to Bucky. As he stepped further in your own annoyance grew and you crossed your arms. It took Bucky's flared nostrils to realize you had folded your arms at the same time as Thor.  
It was a surprising struggle for Bucky to reach you. The bar seemed more and more packed the further he went in and every available space for a stool or body at the bar top was overflowing. Bucky wanted to be impressed, wanted to be proud, but as he bitterly eyed the golden Adonis you had hired he knew he couldn't being himself to be happy, besides, the news he was bringing made the feeling unattainable.  
"Hey." He said shortly when he finally reached you. He was resolutely addressing you and not your new employee. Amusement fizzed in your chest and up your throat almost making you giggle at the phantom tickling sensation. You made eye contact with Thor and made a show of tossing your head to the awaiting customers. He sent you a saucy wink and got back to work.  
"Surprised you didn't send one of your spies." You said once Thor's attention was refocused. You held on tight to your steely disposition, your hands aching with the force at which you were holding your arms across your chest.   
Bucky opened his mouth and it looked like he was going to argue his point but instead he closed his mouth and exhaled slowly.  
"Listen I'm not here to rehash that night." He began.  
"Then why are you here?" You asked, "As you can see I am very busy running my business."  
You felt bad as you watched his face crumple in a tired surrender. Your arms loosened and your mouth relaxed from its tight purse. Blood rushed back into your fingers sending with it the feelings of pins and needles. You took a step closer and almost reached a numb hand out to touch the fabric encasing his upper arm but decided not to.  
"We should talk in the back. Its quieter there." You called out to Thor, asked him to take over for a bit. He looked between Bucky and you before giving a thumbs up.   
If you had known returning to the back room with Bucky would spout unbidden images to your mind of the last time you were here you would not have invited him in. You were flooded with flashes of Bucky's face so close to yours, lust-filled eyes, wet lips, and pink cheeks. The ghost of his lips on yours invaded your senses and sent a shiver down your spine. You inhaled deeply and brought your thoughts back to the present, pursing your lips and crossing your arms again. If you could not control your thoughts you would have to enforce the discipline of your body.  
"Okay, talk."  
Bucky shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and teetered back and forth on his heels. Your weight shifted to one hip. Bucky bit his lower lip anxiously and you unintentionally imagined biting his lips for him. The room was stuffy with tension and heat.   
"I got an email from Tony Stark about an hour ago. The whole block is being summoned to his office next week."  
"Okay?" Was all you could think to say. The images of you and Bucky in a lip lock were replaced with any possible reason Tony Stark would gather the entire block of businesses. Was it good? Was it bad? Was this normal? You found yourself asking the questions out loud.  
"Something tells me it isn't just a casual luncheon or a meet and greet. Tony doesn't waste time like that." Bucky's head lolled back and hit the wall he was leaning against with a dull thud.   
"Well, thank you for telling me. Can you email me the details?" Your voice was soft and delicate, overwhelmed with sympathy for the man slumped against your wall. He nodded and pulled out his phone. Your heart quickened, anticipating the image of the red headed woman to come into view on his screen like last time, but her face was only one in a sea of faces that composed a silly group photo. The image disappeared as his email app overtook the small screen. He set up the forwarding before passing the device off to you. You took it gingerly, careful not to let your fingers connect. You typed in your personal email and reminded yourself to get an official email set up for the business, as well as a website. You passed back the phone after hitting send. Bucky slipped the phone into his back pocket.   
"Thanks again for telling me." You spoke only to break the silence. Bucky nodded again, still somber.   
"I'm a bit nervous." You confessed with a nervous chuckle, rubbing your upper arm as gooseflesh peppered the sensitive skin. The room was anything but cold.  
"Me too. The last time-" Bucky began, but stopped himself short by clearing his throat. He pushed himself off the wall and strode past you to the door. It opened only slightly before he paused, the noise from the outer room pouring in through the gap. The pleasant chatter and boisterous laughter antagonized the morose energy that had settled in the small, private room.  
"Will you let me drive you to the meeting?" Bucky said so low his timber was almost lost in the bustle of the many voices outside. You were about to question him further on his request but the look in his eyes, worry and uncertainty, made you bite your lips and hold back your questions.   
"Sure."   
He opened the door wide enough to slip out and shut it softly behind him. You fell heavily into the cheap office chair and it creaked in protest. You reviewed the new email in your inbox with trepidation. It was short and revealed nothing as to the subject of the meeting.  
"Boss?" Thor's head peaked in, his expression one of concern. You smiled but knew it was weak and unconvincing.   
"I'm fine. I'm coming out." You pulled the door open and passed through. The bar was emptier than when you walked in. A few women lingered at the bar and a couple occupied a small table. You placed a hand on Thor's bicep and thanked him for his help.   
"No trouble at all. I've been through worse back home. People riot over a cold pint." You laughed.  
"Think you can handle this place on your own next Monday?"  
"Got a date?" Thor joked. You couldn't control the heat rushing up your neck.


	5. Chapter 5

A shiny black two-seater rolled up to the back entrance of your bar. You rushed out from under the awning and around the car to the passenger side door and yanked it open, shoving yourself inside and out of the rain.  
“It's really coming down.”   
You wiped a drop of rain that slid from your hairline before it reached your eyebrow.   
“Not a good sign for what's coming.”  
Bucky was somber and stiff. With both hands on the wheel and posture tense he drove away from the backside of Stark Street. His disposition worried you and you couldn't even find it in yourself to give him a distant attitude.   
The car hit a patch of rain so heavy it was deafening. Bucky set the wipers to high and leaned forward in his seat for a better view.  
“Maybe we should pull over until it settles down.” you suggested, barely able to see the brake lights of the car in front of you.  
“Can’t do that. Tony could start without us.”  
“Would he do that?”  
Bucky didn't get a chance to answer. He tensed up, his arms locking at the elbows as his foot slammed on the brake. You lurched forward, seat belt burning a line into your neck. You looked up and gasped, the car in front of you so close you could read their license plate through the downpour.  
“Fucking shit!”   
“Bucky, please pull over.”  
“But-”  
“Please!”   
Setting his blinker on Bucky rolled gently to the shoulder. You watched as the car behind you rolled a little closer to the car ahead as they inched along. Pulling down the sun visor to expose a small mirror you stretched your neck long to inspect the fresh and angry red line. Bringing your fingers to it you let out a hiss.  
“Hey, come here, let me see.”  
You turned in your seat to show him, your eyes struggling to leave the mirror. His fingers gently brushed the raised flesh and you hissed again, pulling away. His free hand gasped your chin and held you in place, even pulling you closer as his fingers danced along your neck and jaw.   
“I'm sorry, doll.”  
You frowned and twisted your chin in his hand. He let go, his eyes still empathetic and lip worried downward.   
“Doesn't hurt that bad.” You mumble. You kept your head down, fingers running along the edges of your phone. You unlocked the device and opened your messages. Thumbs hovering over the keyboard on your most recent conversation.   
“That the new guy?”  
You glanced up, the hard line that formed between Bucky's eyebrows catching your attention. You were taken aback by the severity of his face. If looks could kill was finally a phrase you understood.  
“He's opening up the bar today for me.”  
“Really? Only a week in? Do you really trust him that much?”  
You shrugged one shoulder and felt the cold seed of doubt plant in your chest. Could you trust Thor to run your business? You trusted Wanda of course and by extension Pietro, but you had no reason to trust Thor beyond the warm feeling you get when you meet a good person.   
“I can have Nat check in, keep an eye on him for you.”  
“Like she did me?” You spat and you felt satisfied as Bucky cringed. At least the bastard had the wherewithal to be ashamed.  
“You're not gonna let that go huh?”  
You shook your head and to your surprise he shot you a teasing smirk.  
“That's a shame.” he said with an exaggerated sigh. His arms stretched over his head as best they could in the limitations of the car. One arm extended to cradle the space between the back of your neck and the seat.  
“But I bet you still want to kiss me.”  
“The rain cleared up I think it's safe to get back on the road.” the words were rushed and loud. Bucky’s laugh was just as loud as he put the car in gear and got back on the road. He was more relaxed and his mouth was turned up in a faint smile. You bit your lips down to keep your own smile from emerging. You shot a quick text to Thor for a status update. He responded quickly with a selfie of himself behind the bar, his tongue tip sticking out and fingers held up in a peace sign. You chuckled lightly before locking the screen and hiding your phone away.  
For some reason you didn't want Bucky to see Thor's picture. Maybe it was because his mood had finally shifted, you rationalized. You tried to keep that logic in the forefront of your mind but the real reason kept pushing its way through. It was because he had mentioned kissing. Your mind wanted to bring you back to that night in the back office of your bar when your lips were on his. It urged you to bring his lips back to you even now. It would be so easy, to just lean over as the car idles at the stop light and-  
“We're here.”  
Bucky pulled up to the doors and let you out before searching for a close spot. You waited for him, unsure of where to go from here. He arrived a few minutes later, head and shoulders splattered with drops of rain. He pulled open the door and let you walk inside first.  
The main floor was so open and expansive looking up made you dizzy. In the center of the room was a large curved desk. Sat behind the sleek furniture were two security guards. Bucky placed a hand on your upper back and pushed you forward with him. You sped up so you were far enough for his hand to drop, his palm too warm somehow despite the low temperature of the AC.   
You waited off to the side as Bucky spoke to the older officer. You watched the younger, thinner one stand and come around the desk. Bucky gestured for you to follow. You were led to a wall of several elevators. The guard pressed the summoning button and the doors of the second one down from you opened immediately. You and Bucky stepped in but the guard only stretched his arm into the box to scan his badge and hit the topmost button for you. The doors slid closed and it was just you and Bucky and thoughts of kissing came back with full force.   
“Nervous?”  
You glanced over at Bucky, yet again stiff and closed off.   
“No. But you are.”  
“I have reason to be.”   
Your ears popped as the box rose higher and higher. The pressure in your head made your thoughts swim with the unknown. Not knowing why Bucky was so wound up was winding you up in turn. What were you about to walk in to?  
The doors opened with a melodic ping. You stepped out first, shoes hitting carpet so plush you felt the fibers coil like springs underneath your weight. Immediately a well dressed woman was beside you, guiding you down a hall and into a large office.  
“Nice to see you again James.”  
You raised a brow at Bucky who pretended not to notice her flirtatious departure. It was very possible he didn't actually notice. You could see his jaw working as his eyes stayed affixed across the room.  
Tony Stark sat on one side of an impressive desk of mahogany. It looked heavy and paired with the expensive looking leather chair Tony sat in with its tall back and gold accents you felt small and insignificant.  
“You're late.”  
The man who spoke was not Tony, but it took him speaking for you to notice him. He stood just to the side of the desk and held a black briefcase.   
“Traffic.” Was Bucky's one word reply. He wasn't looking at the man, still glaring daggers at Tony.  
“They're here now Stane. Let's get down to business.”  
Stane nodded once and waved his hand to the two chairs in front of the desk. You moved forward to take a seat but Bucky put out a hand to stop you, smacking your hip as you ran into it.   
“Just tell us what you want.”  
“I want you to sit.”   
There was an authority in his tone that could only come with real power. Begrudgingly Bucky dropped his hand and allowed you to sit. He fell into the chair next to you and crossed one leg on top of the other, letting his arms fall back over the corners of the less impressive chair.   
Tony snapped his fingers and before tapping his pointer in the center of the desk. Stane opened the briefcase and produced two documents, placing them face up on the table before you. You recognized your signature at the bottom of the one in front of you.   
“Do you know what these are?” Stane asked.  
“This looks like my property contract.” You slid it closer to you, the title confirming your suspicions. You had only signed the document a few months ago and a copy of your own was secure in your safe at the bar.   
“Smart woman. I like smart women.” Tony jerked his chin at you and smirked.   
“What's the expiration date on that contract darlin’?”  
You sneered, not liking the way he called you darlin’. He had been so quick to compliment you and just as quick to demean you.  
“March of next year.”  
“And yours Grease Lightning?”   
Bucky didn't move to look. His arms stayed slack along the back of the chair and his foot jiggled on his other knee. You leaned over out of curiosity.  
“March of next year.”  
“Exactly. She's smart Stane. Didn't I say she was smart?” He didn't wait for Stane to reply. Instead, he leaned forward with both hands on the desk, fingers splayed along the contracts.   
“Come March of next year your contracts will expire and there will be no option for renewal.”  
“Bullshit,” Bucky spat, arms coming across his chest defensively. “My contract renews automatically. Or did you forget that part of your father's will?”  
“On the contrary.” Another document was placed on the desk by Stane, much older from the looks of the curling brown edges.  
“My father’s will covered your ass only for ten years. Foolishly optimistic about your success from there I assume. After March the location is up for grabs, and as the property manager I am grabbing the space before you can.”  
“Why do you want my bar?”  
“And mine?” you added.   
“Stark Street, named after my family, should be used to honor the Stark name, not sully it with drunken twenty somethings and the smell of booze and vomit. Stark Street will no longer be a party street, but a road to better futures.”  
Tony rolled his chair to the side and you noticed behind him a set of hard-backed blueprints and a small model street. Stark Street.   
“I am still deciding between a business school or research facility. Stane suggested a culinary academy. What do you think?”  
“What do I think?” Bucky’s voice was booming, his voice so full of rage and indignation.  
“I know what you think.” Tony rolled his eyes and turned his attention to you.  
“What do you think sweetheart?”   
Rage bubbled inside you and you felt like crying or screaming or at the very least punching Tony Stark in the jaw. You took a deep breath.  
“I think you can take your buildings and shove them up your ass.”  
Stane sputtered and tried to cut you off but you spoke loud and clear over him, not pulling your eyes away from the amused man on the other side of the desk.  
“I poured my life savings into that bar and if you think I will give in so easily-”  
“You will be compensated-”  
“You can shove that up your ass too.” you barked. Bucky chuckled and you finally tore your eyes from Tony though you wished you hadn't. A heat wave rippled from your head to your toes at the look on Bucky's face: a mixture of pride and mirth and lust that sent your imagination on a tangent that involved your lips on his and your back being pressed against the top of the desk. You clenched your teeth and forced your mind back to Tony and Stane.  
“All you've done, Mr Stark, is give us leverage. By March of next year there will be no question on who owns that property, because it's going to be us.”  
You didn't wait for anyone to say anything, your adrenaline pushing you to your feet and out the door. The woman who had guided you there earlier let out a squeak of surprise as you ripped the door open and stomped to the elevators. It wasn't until you stepped inside did you realize Bucky was hot at your heels.   
“Fuck,” he moaned obscenely as he grabbed your shoulders making you blush. “That was phenomenal baby!”  
For some reason when Bucky called you baby it didn't feel demeaning, it felt like he was creating a duet between his compliment and his affectionate term.   
“We can't let this happen.”  
“We?” Bucky repeated hopefully. You pressed the lobby button belatedly and leaned against the elevator wall.  
“Yeah, we.”  
Your issues with Bucky would have to be put aside for now, there was a bigger shark in your pond.


	6. Chapter 6

It was 3 am and finally the bar was ready to close. You were drained, your body tired, but your mind was fired up and ready for what was coming next. When Bucky dropped you back off after your meeting with Stark you agreed to come over after the Bars had closed to make a game plan. Thor, as well as Wanda and Pietro, would be joining you across the street at Bucky's. The road was wet beneath your four pairs of feet.  
“Tony Stark is an asshole.” Pietro grumbled to his sister.  
Wanda shook her head and shushed him, but you had seen the fire in her eyes when she walked into the bar an hour before. She was furious, as furious as you maybe. Your chest had warmed at the sight of her angry brow and pursed lips. Wanda was your best friend and your pain was hers. You were grateful to have her on your side.  
Thor chuckled and swung an arm around your shoulder, maybe it was because he was new to your team, or maybe it was just his attitude, but he took the news in stride.  
“Stark doesn't know yet what comes for him.” he said assuredly.  
You leaned your head against his chest needing the comfort. Thor didn't know the outcome of this fight more than anyone else, but you chose to believe him for now. Pietro walked ahead to open the door to Bucky's and Thor's arm fell away from you as you crossed the threshold.  
They were all eyeing you, evaluating you in some way. Your eyes met the redhead, the one you thought was with Bucky, and you turned away quickly, still feeling sore about her spying. Your gaze drifted to Bucky, looking for familiarity, only to follow his eyeliner to Thor. Both men stood unblinking, but while Bucky's jaw was tense,Thor was giving him a teasing smile. The redhead, Natasha, if you recalled correctly, broke the silence and awkward glances with the best words anyone could hear.  
“How about a round?”  
Everyone settled in once a drink was placed in front if them. Natasha and Bucky worked quickly behind the bar and you couldn't help but be impressed by the fluidity of their movements around it each other. Even months in Wanda and Pietro still bumped into each other and spilled a drink or blocked the register, even being twins didn't help them even come close to what Natasha and Bucky had as they worked. A spark of jealousy worked its way from your gut and into your head.  
“Something extra for you. For today.”  
Bucky slid over a shot glass containing a shot of cloudy liquor. You knocked it back instantly, needing the liquid courage. You smacked your lips, tasting the remnants of the drink you tried to decipher exactly what you just drank.  
“It's our Super Soldier shot. Very popular.”  
“It's good. What's in it?”  
Bucky winked and with a quirk of his eyebrows he tightened his lips, seems you wouldn't get an answer out of him.  
“Not that I don't enjoy a beer with my coworkers but it's almost 4 am. Let's hear it.”  
You could tell Bucky's staff was on edge and you assumed he hadn't told everyone about the meeting with Tony. Sam's words not only reminded you of the time but also yet again of how exhausted you were. Your eyes met Bucky's and he nodded.  
“Tony Stark wants to close both our bars by March.”  
“What the hell?”  
“He can't do that.”  
Sam and Steve took turns griping and cursing. Pietro and Wanda had done the same on the three way call you had with them earlier in the evening. Natasha was quiet and you assumed Bucky had caught her up before now. Natasha poured them each another beer and the men settled down.  
“This has Stane written all over it.” She said and you turned to her in confusion.  
“You're saying Tony doesn't want to shut us down?”  
Natasha threw a quick, knowing look to Bucky before answering.  
“I think Tony would not have looked into it if Stane hadn't brought it to his attention. And Stane wouldn't have brought it up if he didn't have something to gain.”  
“He can be swayed then.” Thor chimed in as Natasha passed him another glass of ale. Everything Thor said was said with such confidence and paired with his accent it was hard not to agree with whatever fell from his mouth. Despite the nodding heads down the line of the bar no one could produce a way to sway Tony Stark.  
Draining his drink Sam looked at his watch and announced he was going home, Thor following him soon after. Wanda and Steve spoke quietly, heads huddled together like birds crowding under a wing hiding from the rain. You would probably tease her about their coziness tomorrow, if you could get rid of the cold weight of worry in your stomach. The weight intensified looking at the pair behind the counter, also speaking low and quiet and much to close for comfort. Even though Bucky had told you Natasha is no more than an employee you could not help but be suspicious. But why did you even care? Hadn't you decided after that night in the back room fo your bar that you would not have anything to do with Bucky Barnes?  
You drained the last bit of beer and set the now empty glass gently back onto the bar. Without a word you slipped away and out the door.  
The rain had started up again, light and misty with the occasional fat drop hitting you just inside your shirt collar. You hurried across the street and around the side of your bar.  
“Hey now, you can't just leave without saying goodbye.”  
You turned at the corner and found Bucky in the middle of the street. You looked past him but couldn't see inside.  
“Goodbye, Bucky.”  
You turned on your heel and walked the gap between your bar and the next building, but the heavy footfalls behind you told you this would not be a walk you finished alone. Halfway down the alley he finally caught up with you. His hands reached for your shoulders and pulled you to a stop facing him. Once he was sure you weren't going to leave his hands traveled down your arms and grasped your hands. He squeezed them tightly before relaxing his grip and simply holding your fingers.  
“Thank you for today. I'm glad we are a team on this.”  
You scrunched up your face, “It's more like a temporary alliance.”  
“Oh yeah?”  
His face was close to yours and the alleyway was lit up just enough for you to see the playful desire in his baby blue eyes. You swallowed, suddenly feeling lightheaded.  
“Yeah.”  
You were whispering now, no need to speak any louder when your bodies were so close. His breath was warm and his lips looked soft. You knew they were soft, the memory of his lips on yours constantly played in your head whether Bucky was around or not, but so did the flash of Natasha's face on his phone, and her spying, and now unbidden the image of Natasha and Bucky in the bar, moving together to make drinks, faces as close as tours right now but instead of talking like before, they were kissing.  
You jumped away so suddenly Bucky stumbled forward. He barely had time to right himself before you were practically sprinting away.  
“Goodnight Bucky.” You called over your shoulder. He didn't follow you this time.


End file.
